


Versatility of a Grape

by ivoryline



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Historical References, M/M, One Shot, POV Aziraphale (Good Omens), Pre-Slash, The Globe, this is just a silly little one shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-11 23:54:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29875944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivoryline/pseuds/ivoryline
Summary: Written for round 11 of the Name That Author game on the GO Events Discord!Aziraphale meets up with Crowley at the Globe, grapes are thrown.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12
Collections: Name That Author Round 11





	Versatility of a Grape

**Author's Note:**

> thank you to Faye (isleofsolitude) for running this round of NTA! and thank you to Sk3tch for the title! the prompt was bingo/bulls-eye and i really had a lot of fun with it

Aziraphale met Crowley on the balcony at the Globe. Hamlet was still running, as it had been for months now thanks to Crowley’s intervention. The demon was dressed resplendently in black velvets that looked soft enough to stroke, his red hair tossed over one shoulder. He had a handkerchief in one hand, presumably filled with grapes.

“Hello, Crowley,” Aziraphale said as he approached, unable to suppress a smile. 

“Aziraphale,” Crowley acknowledged with a slight incline of his head, his gaze focused on the crowd below. “How was Edinburgh?”

“Well enough, I suppose,” Aziraphale sighed, “if I never have to talk about cattle again it’ll be too soon.”

Crowley merely grunted in response. Aziraphale dared to sidle closer so that their shoulders were nearly brushing. He reached for a grape and Crowley extended the handkerchief toward him.

“You can have one. I need the rest,” Crowley told him sternly. Aziraphale narrowed his eyes as he took the meager offering. 

“Alright,” Aziraphale said slowly. Crowley was behaving strangely, more so than usual. He had barely even glanced at Aziraphale since he had arrived, his focus was entirely on the growing crowd. Perhaps it was the play? 

“I know how you feel about the gloomy ones,” Aziraphale tipped his head toward the stage. “We can go somewhere else if you like?”

“Bah,” Crowley said. “This is fine. Perfect, actually.”

“Oh, good,” Aziraphale said, relaxing a bit. “It really is rather good. You didn’t get to see the whole play the last time we were here.”

“Right,” Crowley said distractedly. He plucked a grape out of the handkerchief and held it between his index finger and thumb. He rested his elbows on the railing and leaned as far over as he could. Very well, then. Aziraphale knew how to get Crowley’s attention.

“You know, my dear, I haven’t gotten to say thank you for how well Hamlet is doing. I appreciate it ever so much, it’s really quite kind of-”

“Yeah, yeah, shut up a minute, angel,” Crowley interrupted. Aziraphale turned to face Crowley fully, stunned. He watched the demon draw his arm back and, with serpent-like speed, launch the grape across the theatre. The grape soared through the air and struck an elderly gentleman square in the forehead.

“Ha!” Crowley turned his grin on Aziraphale. “Bulls-eye!”

“Crowley, what in Heaven’s name-”

“Wait, is he looking? Act normal,” Crowley said and shoved the handkerchief into Aziraphale’s hands. 

“I am normal. You, on the other hand,” Aziraphale shook his head and popped a grape in his mouth.

“Hey, don’t eat the projectiles. I need those.”

“What on Earth did that old man do to you, Crowley?”

“We’re staying at the same inn and every morning, without fail, he cracks a joke about my arse. They aren’t even good jokes, angel,” Crowley told him with a little moue. 

“Ah,” Aziraphale said and carefully selected a nice, fat grape. “That’s him over there, yes?”


End file.
